The Two Towers: Into Space
by The.Gemini.Twins12
Summary: The Fellowship is broken. Gandalf and Boromir are gone. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli hunt the Orcs that took Merry and Pippin. Frodo and Sam travel through the Emyn Muil to Ithilien where they hope to meet up with a new ally, but not as alone as they might think. Meanwhile Bilbo continues to prepare for the War of the Ring with more help than he could have hoped for.
1. An Unexpected Journey

Disclaimer: _I don't own the Lord of the Rings or the Hobbit!_

A/N: _Good afternoon and welcome to_ Serenity _!_

 _On this ship we'll journey through the Two Towers and follow the Fellowship as they go their separate ways. Your pilots of the story are Éomer, Faramir, Aragorn, Frodo, Bilbo, and Fili and Kili. Hang on tight!_

 _Enjoy! Please review!_

* * *

 **An Unexpected Journey**

 _September 5158, Minas Tirith, Gondor System_

Boromir was old – there was no denying it – and his body took great cares to remind him of the fact every morning. His right shoulder could ache insistently for hours unless he looked for help from his wife. His left wrist was plagued with carpal tunnel and on rainy days his knees ached badly. Perhaps the worst part of aging was his memory. It was starting to go bad. Some days he forgot who his children were and others he was happy to hear from his sons and daughter. During his times of memory loss he often wondered why his wife remained by his side. She had every right to leave him in the care of their staff at home and go off on another adventure.

"I hope you are not trying to guilt me into leaving again." Boromir tore his gaze away from the passing scenery to look at his wife. Tauriel sat back against the leather seat of the train car, her lips pursed in annoyance.

Boromir smiled pleasantly at her. "I would never think of such a thing," he told her.

Tauriel laughed lightly and slapped his knee. "Liar," she accused. "We have been together for sixty-five years, Boromir. I am pretty sure I can read your thoughts now."

"And that's where you're wrong," Boromir said, earning himself another laugh. "No one can read a single thing I'm thinking."

"Except for Pippin," Tauriel pointed out.

Boromir nodded. "Except for Pippin," he agreed. Tauriel shook her head. Her smile was one of exasperation this time. Boromir reclined in his seat. He enjoyed picking on his wife occasionally. It tended to bring out the wild side she'd hidden away in the recent years.

Neither of them spoke through the rest of the train ride, content to sit in silence. Boromir watched as the White City drew nearer with every minute that passed. He and Tauriel had arrived on the planet the night before but had chosen to stay in one of the outer cities. The trains didn't run during the night and it was too much of a hassle to take a ship out to the main city. Upon their arrival, though, Boromir had felt that familiar presence in his mind. Pippin was waiting for him.

The train pulled into the station at half past ten in the morning. Boromir and Tauriel followed the crowds off the train. The station was unusually busy for a weekday. Normally the platforms were as silent as a graveyard at this time. Boromir shrugged to himself. It was probably due to the upcoming festival to celebrate the War of the Ring. Everyone wanted to buy their supplies now, before the vendors ran out.

Two figures waited patiently at the far end of the platform, speaking between each other. Boromir made a beeline for them immediately. The moment he saw Boromir and Tauriel, Aragorn stepped away from Faramir to greet them.

"Boromir," the King said. The two Men embraced one another as brothers while Faramir greeted Tauriel with a kiss on the cheek. Aragorn stepped back and looked Boromir up and down. "You look horrible," he commented.

Boromir chuckled, clapping the King on the shoulder. "You don't look any better," he said, and Aragorn laughed. The Ranger's hair had gone gray over the years. His shoulders stooped more and he carried a cane, but only on doctor's orders. He rarely ever used it.

Boromir greeted Faramir next, pulling his brother into a rough hug. "It's good to see you again," he told his younger brother. Faramir mumbled in agreement, his face shoved into Boromir's shoulder. "How's Elboron?"

Faramir forced Boromir to release him in order to answer. "Ask him yourself," he retorted. "It's not that hard to pick up line and call him every once in a while."

"I call him every week," Boromir told his brother, and Faramir shook his head.

"And I make sure he does it," Tauriel said. She looped her arm around Boromir's elbow and leaned against her husband. "They had a very long talk about weapons tactics last week."

"Of course you would," Faramir snorted.

"You're just jealous that I have a better relationship with your son than you," Boromir said. Faramir made a rather loud _t-cah_ sound of disagreement. Boromir elbowed his brother. "I'm only joking, you know that." Faramir wrinkled his nose at him.

"Well, your majesty," Tauriel said to Aragorn. "Are you going to lead the way or shall we find our own ride to the palace?"

Aragorn grinned at her. "This way." He gestured toward a waiting shuttle. The small group way their down the path, laughing as Boromir continued to tease his brother.

o.O.o

"Pip, you all right?"

Pippin turned away from gazing blindly toward the southwest wall. Physically he was back in the courtyard with the crew of _the Arkenstone_ , but mentally he was listening to Boromir tell a joke to Aragorn. It took all his strength to draw back out of that mind. Once he had, though, he became immediately aware of the all the attention focused on him. Kili had been the one to ask the question.

"The Steward's here," Pippin said vaguely. "He came with Tauriel."

"Excellent," Kili crowed. Pippin grinned as he felt the Dwarf's excitement intermingled with Thorin's exasperation. "She always makes these sort of things fun."

"This isn't fun enough for you?" Nori teased.

"You know that's not what I meant," Kili snapped.

Pippin pulled his awareness away as the two Dwarves began bickering, Nori wheedling just to annoy Kili. "Back to the story, yeah," he said aloud.

"If you think you're ready," Bilbo told him. "I know yesterday couldn't have been easy on you."

Pippin waved a dismissive hand in Bilbo's general direction. "I've had worse," he said, and no one argued with him because they knew that much was true. "Where were we?"

"Give _Magpie_ a minute," Bofur said, referencing to the _Songbird_ that was recording the story for them. "She's a little sleepy this morning." _Magpie_ gave a sleepy coo, as though to support this statement. Pippin just grinned. He loved this _Songbird_. It was friendly and always knew how brighten everyone's spirits.

"There we are," Bofur said eventually. "We'd just finished with the breakin' of the Fellowship. So Boromir's dead, Frodo and Sam have gone off ta Ithilien through the Emyn Muil, ya were captured by Orcs with Merry, and Aragorn's chasin' after ya."

Pippin nodded to himself. "Right," he said. "I suppose it'd be best to start with Frodo then."

* * *

A/N: _What did you think?_

 _Please don't kill me! Everything will be explained in due course and I really hope you all don't hate me for it. Until then please bear with me and leave the torches and pitchforks at home._

 _All right, so the Fellowship of the Ring was fun to write but I struggled a little bit when I didn't receive any feedback on what my readers thought. So, as Castor loves to say: you write comment, I write chapter, yes? :)_


	2. Lost and Hunted

Disclaimer: _I don't own The Lord of the Rings or the Hobbit!_

A/N: _Good afternoon!_

 _I'm back with another story for all my lovely readers! Sorry it took me a while to get this going. It was harder to write a beginning for the Two Towers than it was for the Fellowship. Thankfully Castor is back on board. :D With this story, I'll stick to the plain plot points of the book and movie but also stray quite a bit. Ye be warned!_

 _Enjoy! Please review!_

* * *

 **Lost and Hunted**

 _EMYN MUIL (/Ĕmĭn Mooēl/ e'moon mui'l, Khazad: Harud Durthu [_ _H_ _ɑ_ _n_ _ʊ_ _d_ _d_ _ʊ_ _rt_ _ʰʊ_ _])_

 _ETYMOLOGY_

 _The Emyn Muil airspace was initially named Parth Galen after the crew of the_ Parth Galen _explorer vessel. It was to be a symbol of new hope for the Gondor System who was, at the time, expanding its boundaries. "Parth" and "Galen" are both Sindarin words; "Parth" meaning field or sward, and "Galen" meaning leaf or weed. After the Galactic War, the local Dwarves renamed it Emyn Muil as a warning to any who traveled that way. "Emyn" is the plural Sindarin word for hills and "Muil" is Sindarin for drear. The Khuzdul name for the area is "Harud Durthu", Hills of Gloom._

 _HISTORY_

 _Prior to the Galactic Systems Boundaries Act of the Thirty-Seventh century, the Emyn Muil airspace was considered an empty territory of the Gondor System. The Gondorian explorers of the Thirty-Fifth century initially named the airspace Parth Galen as a tribute to the crew of the_ _vessel christened_ Parth Galen _who risked their lives in their further explorations of the new territory (for exploration vessel_ Parth Galen _, click_ _here_ _). The Parth Galen airspace was established with colonies aboard several small Space Stations. The most famous of these Stations was the Osiris Station, which was commended by the King of Gondor for its discovery of anti-gravity-hydroponic growth chambers (for Osiris Space Station, click_ _here_ _). The colonies thrived for many years with the aid of nearby Khazad planets which strengthened the bonds between the Gondor and Khazad Systems. Trouble arose in the late Thirty-Seventh century when the enemy rose to power and seized control of the Government of the Free Peoples (for Government of the Free Peoples, click_ _here_ _). As Orc attacks became more frequent and the Systems were on the brink of war, the Parth Galen colonies were evacuated. The airspace later became the battleground of one of the largest battles to take place during the Galactic War (for Galactic War, click_ _here_ _). The abandoned colony Stations were used as underground meeting places for the members of the Alliance. Later in the war, the Stations were flooded with nuclear radiation by the Orcs and the airspace was abandoned to the enemy's army. Several booby traps and space mines were set in place during the years of the Galactic War to discourage the Alliance from using the airspace ever again. Upon the Galactic Systems Boundaries Act of the Thirty-Seventh century, the territory was returned to the Khazad System. The Dwarves renamed the airspace Emyn Muil (Harud Durthu in Khuzdul) and the Parth Galen airspace's boundaries were drawn back to only include Amon Lhaw the Amon Hen._

 _CURRENT STATUS_

 _The Emyn Muil airspace is considered a Class A no-trespassing zone by the Nuclear Safety Act of the Thirty-Ninth century. Disobeying this order can result in immediate imprisonment up to or exceeding seven years. The colony Stations are still flooded with nuclear radiation and any attempt to open them may result in the subsequent illness or death of an entire crew. The space mines in the area are still considered active and the nuclear radiation has been found to damage navigation scanners. All ships are forbidden entry to the airspace unless permitted by the Government of the Free Peoples._

Frodo read the last paragraph of the web entry three times before the realization finally sunk in. He and Sam had wandered blindly into a death trap. He couldn't stop himself as he chanced a look out the windshield of the _Elanor_. They'd only been traveling for a few hours and already they were several miles into the airspace.

Shards of asteroids and ship dead in the water surrounded them on nearly every side. With no sun to pull them away, the wreckages floated lazily in one spot. A few ships continued to rotate slowly, their engines feeding off the nuclear radiation while their thrusts slowly died off. Every now and then Frodo could spot the remains of a Space Station. They were small disc-shaped buildings with several windows lining their many levels. The once pristine Station walls had been scorched black in the historic battle. They were only husks now, ancient triumphs lost in history. The worst by far, though, were the space mines. They floated like dangerous beacons throughout the wreckages. Already Frodo had seen one strike an asteroid. The explosion had rocked their ship until they'd almost hit another space mine.

"Nuclear radiation, space mines." Sam crossed his arms and shook his head. "This is crazy. Why would Mr. Bilbo want us to take this way?"

Frodo chewed his lip. He'd been wondering the very same thing over the past few hours and had come to only one conclusion. "He probably figured no one would want to follow us here," he said. "It's dangerous enough and ships can't navigate through it. You read the history page."

"Exactly," Sam said. He gestured toward the windshield. "Did he think we'd be able to get through this maze? We've already gotten lost three times. How many more times are we going to get lost before we managed to find our way through?"

"Bilbo knew what he was doing," Frodo said. He swiped his hand over one of the orb-like controls. The historical webpage he had brought up on the Roots disappeared in a second. He and Sam had decided to read up on the Emyn Muil airspace to get an idea of what the place had been like. Now Frodo was wondering if it had been a bad idea.

"But we don't," Sam pointed out. "How's Mr. Bilbo supposed to help us if we're here and he's . . . wherever he is?"

"He'll help us we need it," Frodo assured him. Sam's eyes narrowed skeptically. Smiling, Frodo patted his friend on the shoulder. "Bilbo rescued us from the Ringwraith at the Sarn Gebir."

Sam pursed his lips, still not convinced over the matter. "How do we even know that was him?" he demanded. "It could've been any of the Dwarves."

"Strider didn't seem to think so," Frodo said. "I overheard him and Legolas talking on the Argonath Station. Thorin would have come up from behind us and Gandalf is . . . dead." Frodo choked on the last word as the memory of his dear friend returned to him. Even now, months later, he could still picture Gandalf falling into the abyss of the Mines of Moria along with the Balrog. It had haunted his dreams ever since.

"You know I don't like eavesdropping," Sam said. Frodo gave him a pointed look and he flushed brightly. "You know what I mean, Mr. Frodo. I-I didn't mean to be eavesdropping on Mr. Thorin. It just . . . happened."

"I still can't believe you followed me here," Frodo said, shaking his head. "I'd have thought you had enough common sense not to."

"Someone had to make sure you didn't get into trouble," Sam protested. "Especially with _that_ following us." He jerked his head toward a nearby radar on the console. The screen had been chirping for nearly an hour now, alerting them to the presence of the ship tailing them. "Gollum's starting to get pretty brave, don't you think?"

Frodo scratched his neck. Sam was right. Gollum had been tailing off close lately. The creature didn't even seem to care it was showing up on the radar.

"Think he'll try to board us?" Sam asked seriously.

Frodo shrugged. "If he does then we can take him," he said. Sam gave him a dubious look and he laughed. "There's two of us and one of him. I think we're more than a match."

"What if he brings those Orc friends with him again?" Sam said pointedly. "Then we'll really be in trouble."

"I don't think he's going to try that," Frodo told him. "Gollum wants the Ring for himself. Besides, we don't even know if he actually told the Orcs where we were."

"Seems like something he'd do," Sam muttered under his breath. "Too bad Mr. Bilbo didn't kill him when he had the chance."

A memory resurfaced and before he knew it, Frodo was reciting something he'd heard many weeks ago. "Many who die deserve life and some who live deserve death."

Sam shot him a confused look. "Where'd you hear that?"

Frodo turned his gaze out the window. His heart hurt too much to tell Sam the truth. "Just something I heard at a festival."

o.O.o

"A service station?" Legolas said confusedly as he stared out the windshield of the _Elanor_. "Why would the Orcs stop at a service station?" Floating just before the ship was a single-level, round space station emblazoned with nine gold rings – the insignia of the Government of the Free Peoples.

"No idea," Aragorn said. Typing a command into the keyboard, he examined the information the station's logbook spat back at him. "Apparently they docked several hours ago, stayed for about an hour, and then left again."

Legolas frowned, crossing his arms. "That should not be possible," he said. "The Government has restrictions to who uses the service stations. They are for official Government use only."

"In case you didn't notice, laddie, Orcs don't care much for laws," Gimli pointed out from his spot against a wall. Legolas' expression turned to contemplative.

"You're both right," Aragorn told his friends. He leaned back in the pilot seat, folding his hands on his stomach. "Technically the Orcs shouldn't have been able to even go near the station."

"The safety measures would have blasted it out of the water," Legolas commented.

Aragorn nodded in agreement. "The station would have defended itself," he said. "But it didn't and they obviously had a code to board the station for whatever reason they had."

"How do you know that?" Gimli asked skeptically. "The Orcs could've just stormed the station."

"But they didn't." Aragorn leaned forward and tapped a few keys. The station's log shifted back through an hour of history. "According to the log they used a code to access the station." He gave Legolas and Gimli a pointed look.

Gimli's eyes narrowed. "You think the Government let them use that?" he asked dubiously.

"Either that or Saruman got a hold of the code," Aragorn pointed out. "Which of the two do you think is more likely?"

"I would put my money on Saruman," Legolas said as he dropped his arms. "But that does not answer the question as to why the Orcs needed to board the Station."

"Let's find out," Aragorn said. He closed the logbook with a few more keystrokes then leaned back in the pilot seat, laying his hands on the controls.

"Hold on, laddie," Gimli said hastily. "Do you really think that's a good idea? This could be an ambush."

"Already ran a thermal scan," Aragorn told the Dwarf. "They came up negative." Gimli frowned, disliking the idea of boarding the station, but didn't argue when Aragorn guided the _Elanor_ forward.

"I suggest we do not spend much time on the station," Legolas said as Aragorn began the process of docking to the station. Aragorn glanced sideways at his friend. Legolas gave him a pointed look. "The Orcs are already several hours ahead of us. What do you think could happen to Merry and Pippin if we delay ourselves?"

"Just what I'm trying to not think about," Gimli grumbled under his breath.

Both Aragorn and Legolas ignored the Dwarf. "Twenty minutes," Aragorn told the Elf. "Promise." Legolas pursed his lips in a manner that suggested he didn't agree with the idea, but he didn't push the matter anymore.

No one spoke for several minutes as Aragorn manually bypassed the safety protocol and maneuvered the _Elanor_ onto the docking structure of the station. The entire ship shuddered gently as the station activated its docking grips. A notification chirped from the console once it had completed. Rising from his seat, Aragorn grabbed _Andúril_ from its resting place against the console and strapped the sword to his hip.

"Gimli, run to the engine room and grab me a crowbar and a pair of pliers," he said as he made his way toward the doorway.

"A crowbar?" Gimli repeated in disbelief. "What do you need a crowbar for?"

"Booby traps," Aragorn shouted over his shoulder. "Just trust me. Legolas, with me." Gimli grumbled in Khuzdul but followed Aragorn heavily down the steps.

The three hunters split once they'd reached the lowest level of the ship. Gimli headed for the engine room while Aragorn and Legolas made their way to the door. Aragorn jammed a button of the control panel down hard. The door of the ship hissed open to reveal the short docking tunnel.

"Aragorn," Legolas said softly as he followed the Ranger into the tunnel. "What do you think we are going to find here? We need to be going after the Orc ship."

"And we will," Aragorn assured his friend. "But there could be some sort of clue here that might tell us what the Orcs are up to." Legolas gave him a pointed look. Aragorn sighed. " _Besides_ taking Merry and Pippin to Saruman." He stopped before the door of the station. "Twenty minutes, Legolas, that's all I ask."

Legolas set his jaw. "Fine, but no more."

"On my honor," Aragorn told the Elf and Legolas huffed in annoyance.

Gimli chose this moment to stomp into the docking tunnel. "Aragorn," he called gruffly before tossing the crowbar he'd found down the length of the tunnel.

Aragorn deftly caught the crowbar before it could hit him. Legolas shot the Dwarf an annoyed look but Gimli ignored him, slowing as he reached them. Turning back to the station's control system, Aragorn felt along the wall for the panel that concealed the hardware of the computer.

Once he'd found the thick seam of the metal sheet, he jammed the crowbar into it and jerked hard. The panel groaned in protest before the screws gave way, popping out of their holdings. They clattered to the floor followed quickly by the panel. Aragorn kicked it aside and knelt to examine the innards of the computer. Several red, yellow, and white wires crisscrossed one another throughout the entire system. Most of them were held in bunches by strings of wire.

"Do you even know what you're doing?" Gimli asked dubiously as Aragorn reached into the small compartment.

"Believe it or not," Aragorn told the Dwarf. "I do." He examined several wires, looking for the familiar markings.

". . . How?" Gimli asked after a moment. The question came out in a judging tone and Aragorn looked over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. Gimli raised in his hands defensively. "Just wondering."

"I'll put it this way," Aragorn said, turning back to his word. "When you're fifteen years old and Nori's your friend, you learn a lot of illegal things. Pliers." He took the proffered pliers from Gimli.

"Why am I not surprised?" Legolas laughed. "I suppose he taught you how to pickpocket people too?"

Aragorn snipped the ends of the wires. "Tried to," he grunted. "Wasn't very good at it." Setting the pliers aside, he touched the two ends of the wires together. A loud snap emitted where the two strings of wire met. The station's door hissed open. Aragorn rose from his kneeling position. "There we go. Let's see what we can find."

Aragorn led the way into the station, prepared to draw his sword in case something happened to jump out at him. Booby traps on doors weren't the Orcs' only way to take someone out. He surveyed the room quickly, eyebrow rising the moment he saw a strange scene. Several Orc bodies littered the ground on the opposite side of the room.

"That's not something you see every day," Gimli commented once he saw the dead Orcs.

Legolas moved forward slowly to bend over one of the Orcs. He rolled it over and examined its face for a few seconds before moving onto the next one. Eventually he straightened up with a frown. "These Orcs were all killed by Orc blades," he commented. "The crew must have gotten into some sort of fight when they docked here."

"Any of those big Orcs?" Gimli asked.

Legolas glanced at a nearby Orc. "No, they must have been the ones to kill these Orcs," he said. "All of these Orcs are from Moria. You can tell by their armor."

"Moria Orcs?" Aragorn said with a frown. He strode forward and examined and Orc for himself. Legolas was right. Each of the Orcs bore a rough symbol of a mountain wreathed in flame on their leather armor. "Saruman's calling on all the Orcs in the Systems," Aragorn mused, sitting back on his heels. "That's going to cause a lot of trouble."

"How so?" Gimli asked, puzzled.

Aragorn's knees popped as he straightened up. "Each Orc tribe has their own culture," he told Gimli. "They'll be loyal to different people, and sometimes not to anyone."

"The Moria Orcs don't have any loyalty, I take it," Gimli said sourly.

"They're the loyal to the Balrog," Aragorn said. "But that's just because they're scared it'll kill them. These ones probably tried to revolt against Saruman's Orcs."

"And look what it did for them," Legolas commented. "This could be better for us, though. The crew will not be able to work well together. It will slow them down."

"I just hope Merry and Pippin don't get caught up in it," Aragorn said with a heavy heart. Legolas sighed, his shoulders slumping. Gimli bowed his head.

Not wanting to think of what the Orcs could do to their little friends, Aragorn turned his gaze away from the sight of the Orcs. Chances were Merry and Pippin had already been killed. Orcs weren't known for being very patient with other races.

Aragorn spotted the difference before he could even think about what it meant. A door to a storage bay was open just a crack. A dim red light shone through the crack. Before he knew what he was doing, the Ranger was already striding across the room.

"Aragorn?" Legolas said in confusion. "What are you doing?"

Aragorn didn't answer. Working his fingers into the small crack of the door, he shoved all his weight against it. The door screeched along its rail, a shower of rust falling as it opened. Aragorn straightened up to inspect what he'd found.

Two strangely shaped barrels sat side by side in the small storage bay. They were nearly five feet tall and two feet in diameter. The backs of the barrels were nearly flat, probably for stability, while the front was made entirely of darkened glass. A single seam ran down the center of the glass front. One either side of the seam was a large handle. Two pipes stuck out of the top of the barrels. Aragorn had never seen anything like them before.

"Aragorn?" Legolas said again.

"Come here," Aragorn called over his shoulder. Legolas and Gimli wandered up behind him. They peered into the storage room, both making inquiring sounds at what they saw. Aragorn moved forward to examine the barrels more carefully. "Have either of you seen anything like this before?" he asked.

"Not me," Legolas said. He cocked his head to one side. "Are they some sort of storage machine?"

"No idea," Aragorn said, straightening up from his inspection. Everything else about the barrel seemed fairly normal except for a small computer screen built into the side.

"Looks like a stasis pod." Aragorn and Legolas turned to Gimli. The Dwarf glanced between them then shrugged. "I used to see them at the hospital my uncle worked at. We use them for quarantine or atmosphere treatments."

"Quarantine?" Aragorn repeated. He glanced back to the barrels. The pieces of the puzzle were clicking together now. "Could it be used for keeping someone in a coma?"

Gimli considered the question for a moment before nodding. "I don't see why not," he said. "It'd just take some modifications."

"But these were not made by Dwarves," Legolas pointed out, a panicked note in his voice. He had begun to realize what Aragon was thinking of. "I have seen those stasis pods before. There is a certain design to them that make them recognizable."

Aragorn scratched his chin as he thought. Finally, he spoke, "They're definitely not made by any Orcs," he said. "It wouldn't have been hard for Saruman to get a hold of the designs, though. They're available to any hospital that wants them."

"Blasted Wizard," Gimli growled.

"You think Saruman had someone build these?" Legolas said, sounding bemused. "Why would he do that?"

"Think about it." Aragorn paced around the barrels. "He sends his Orcs to kidnap four Hobbits but he needs to make sure the Hobbits don't say anything to the Orcs that might tell them about the Ring. He'll want it for himself. He doesn't want the Orcs to kill them either, so he'll need to find some way to protect the Hobbits."

Legolas nodded, following Aragorn's thought process. "It explains why the Orcs would have stopped here," he said. "Saruman would not have wanted the machines to be damaged in case we had managed to attack the ships."

"Exactly." Aragorn snapped his fingers. "So the Orcs'll store Merry and Pippin in these contraptions until they reach Isengard then he'll torture them himself."

"You're missing something, laddie," Gimli spoke up. "I don't know of any medical serum that can cause a coma without needing life support. These machines aren't built for that."

Aragorn frowned thoughtfully. Gimli was definitely right about that. Unless Saruman had another way to suspend life for a short while . . . The realization was too much and Aragorn groaned.

"What is it?" Legolas asked, stepping forward. "Is something wrong?"

"There's one thing Saruman could use to preserve a life," Aragorn said. Legolas and Gimli gave him blank looks. Neither of them had come to the same realization he had. "Orc Draught," he told the Elf and the Dwarf grimly. "We need to get Merry and Pippin out of there. _Now_."

o.O.o

 _Pippin raced between the trees as fast as his legs could carry him. Branches snapped beneath his feet. The wind howled in his ears and grabbed at his coat, but Pippin ignored them. His entire focus was on escaping the Orcs chasing him. Their jeering shouts echoed off the trees, punctured occasionally by a roared order in Black Speech._

 _Pippin chanced a glance over his shoulder. Dark shapes moved between the forest behind him. In the dark of night, he could barely make out the creatures. They laughed at him, calling in mocking voices for him to come back._

 _The root came out of nowhere. Pippin's foot caught on it and before he knew it he'd sprawled to the ground. His cheek hurt from it had collided with the ground. A painful throb spasmed from his ribs and Pippin gasped._

 _The voices were closer now, and as Pippin rolled onto his back he spotted the first Orc. It scuttled out from behind a tree – one of the Orcs from Moria. It looked at him sideways, eyeing him up like a bird, before darting toward him. Pippin cried out in terror. He wanted to scramble away from the vile creature but his legs wouldn't obey him. He couldn't get up. The Moria Orc wrapped a slimy hand around Pippin's ankle and he screamed, kicking out. His action just made the Orc laugh. It called out to its fellow warriors who responded with triumphant roars._

 _Pippin shuddered. The Black Speech struck him down to the core. He couldn't understand a single word of it, but every time the Orcs spoke he felt every drop of hate in their voices. It was a lasting effect he couldn't shake._

 _The Orc reached down to drag Pippin up when the sound of hooves thudded on the ground. They drew near faster than the Orcs could respond. The Orc grabbing at Pippin barely had the chance to rear back when a spear struck him hard in the chest. He fell back with a painful screech._

 _A large form sailed over Pippin's small body. It landed on the other side of the clearing, rearing up to paw the air. A broad-shouldered figure on raised its arm. Another spear sailed through the air. The Orcs scattered, chittering in terror at this newfound horror._

 _Pippin laid on the ground, watching in awe as his savior launched spear upon spear at the Orcs. It sent the vile creatures fleeing toward the other end of the wood. The spear-throwing figure shifted slightly and Pippin was finally able to make something out – the symbol of a four-legged creature in mid-run. It looked like the many horses he'd seen in books and on the roots._

 _The larger of the two figures – an animal of some sort – turned away once all the Orcs had gone. The light of the moon silhouetted the broad-shouldered figure. A deep voice resonated through the forest: "Wé cume."_

Pippin woke with a jerk, his head colliding hard with the wall behind him. Fresh waves of pain flared out from the bruise at the back of his skull. He'd received the injury while he and Merry had been fighting off the Orcs on Amon Hen. Wincing, Pippin tried to ignore the pain. He couldn't massage it away if he wanted to. The Orcs had locked manacles around his wrists. The connecting chain looped through a d-ring in the floor, holding him in place.

Head aching and feeling groggy, Pippin took a chance to look around himself. He sat on the floor of the cockpit, tucked away in a corner. Two Uruk-hai guards sat on either side of him. Several more of the large, vile creatures mingled around the room. They hovered over consoles and barked between one another in their foul language. Only one Uruk-hai moved around without actually doing anything: Uglúk.

Merry and Pippin had met Uglúk for the first time when they'd docked at a small station for reasons they couldn't fathom. A scuffle had broken out between several of the Orcs. It had been Uglúk, the largest of the Uruk-hai, that stepped forward and beheaded several of the smaller Orcs. The 'snaga', he called them. It had been around that time that Pippin had passed out from the amount of voices and emotions washing through him. He wasn't good with crowds.

Merry . . . Pippin leaned sideways slightly to see around the legs of his guards. He could just barely make out Merry on the other side of the room. The older Hobbit lay on his side with his back to the room. Pippin pursed his lips. They hadn't tried speaking to one another since the fight on the station. They were both too scared. It wouldn't hurt to try now, though. Uglúk couldn't possibly know what a Reader was just by sight.

" _Merry,"_ Pippin directed his thought toward his friend. It took quite a bit of effort to concentrate on the job. Thoughts rushed at him from all angles, vile Black Speech that seared itself to his memory.

Merry stirred slightly on the floor, his shoulders rolling as though to shrug a weight off. Pippin tried again. _"Merry, are you awake?"_

This time Merry noticed. _"Pip?"_ his voice echoed through Pippin's thoughts. Pippin sighed in relief, allowing himself a small smile. He glanced quickly at his guards. They hadn't noticed anything.

" _How're your ribs?"_ Pippin asked gently. He saw Merry press a hand to his side. The manacles made it hard for him to do it, but he managed.

" _They hurt,"_ Merry said. He'd received the blow to the ribs during the Orc scuffle. Uglúk hadn't bothered checking on him. _"Hope they're not broken. How're your ribs?"_

Pippin touched a hand to his cheek. _"Sore,"_ he told his friend. _"But I'll live."_

Merry's shoulders shook with a small chuckle. _"You better not leave me here alone with these Orcs. I'll kill you myself if you do."_ Pippin's smile faded. There was more truth to Merry's words than either of them wanted to admit. Merry sensed the change in his attitude. _"It's all right, Pip,"_ he said. _"They'll come for us. Strider's coming."_

Pippin sat back against the wall, letting the mental connection fade away. It was becoming too hard to hold it for very long now that he was surrounded by other forceful minds. He wanted to tell Merry about his dream – about the spear-throwing figure – but he was too tired. Already he could feel a groggy weight falling on his mind. This wouldn't be the first time he'd fallen asleep on the Orc ship, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

* * *

A/N: _What did you think?_

 _I'm so iffy about Merry and Pippin's scene. I feel like there's not much I can do with it. :/ Let me know if you think it's bad writing. I'll try again. Off to study for two quizzes and then maybe see a movie tonight._


	3. United

Disclaimer: _I don't own The Lord of the Rings or the Hobbit!_

A/N: _Good evening!_

 _You get two for the price of one today! I'm kind of . . . writing the chapters out of order. So far they've separated between the Fellowship and Bilbo, and I really wanted to write Merry and Pippin's scene . . . so I kind of wrote chapter 3 before I wrote chapter 2. Castor's kind of exasperated with me._

 _Enjoy! Please review!_

* * *

 **United**

"You seem distracted." Bilbo tore his gaze away from the window of the hovercraft as Thorin sat heavily beside him. The Dwarf raised an eyebrow at him. "What is on your mind?"

"I'm just thinking," Bilbo said, turning his eyes back to the scenery outside. The speed of the hovercraft blurred the scenery together, making it nearly impossible to discern one mallorn tree from another.

"I know you better than that," Thorin told him lightly. Bilbo huffed a small laugh. Thorin elbowed him gently in the side. "You only have that look on your face when something is really bothering you."

Bilbo sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. Thorin wouldn't quit wheedling him until he'd figured out what was bothering Bilbo. The Dwarf wasn't wrong, either. Ever since he'd received Tauriel's message about the events on Amon Hen, Bilbo had started questioning his recent decisions.

"Do you think I'm doing the right thing?" Bilbo asked softly.

Thorin frowned at him. "What do you mean?" he said. "About going to Dwimorberg?"

"No, not that." Bilbo glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening.

Dori, Nori, and Bofur were talking with Haldir up front. Eaodan appeared to be napping in the corner while Elegost stared out the window. It was just him and Thorin talking.

Bilbo turned back to the window. "I mean the Fellowship of the Ring," he said. Thorin's frown deepened. "Do you think I made a mistake sending Frodo on this sort of quest."

"He made the decision himself," Thorin pointed out. "You did not force him to do anything."

"No, of course I didn't," Bilbo snapped. Even he could hear the sarcastic tone in his own voice. "Because telling someone if they don't do something the universe is going to end isn't forcing them to do what you want."

Thorin's eyes flashed for a moment. Bilbo recognized the look. It was the same one Thorin got when he was being overprotective. Usually it worked best when there was a physical threat he could hit a sword with. Philosophical problems that he couldn't hit normally just started fights with him.

"You gave Frodo an option," Thorin told him. "You did not threaten him at sword point to go."

"I guess not." Bilbo sighed. Turning, he sat beside Thorin on the bench. Thorin shifted slightly so their knees were touching, a comforting gesture Bilbo was thankful for.

"Besides," Thorin added. "You must have had a backup plan. If Frodo had decided not to go, you probably would have sent someone else . . . right?" The Dwarf's tone suggested this was the first time he'd considered Bilbo not having a plan B.

Bilbo glared at Thorin. "No, I didn't have a plan," he said, the sarcastic tone back in his voice. Thorin's eyes narrowed. "Of course I had a plan! I'm not an idiot."

"What was your backup plan, then?" Thorin asked.

Bilbo sat back against the wall, letting his head fall against the window. It made a heavy thunking sound. "I was going to send Aragorn," he said. "That was always my plan. I figured it was his ancestor who started this whole mess, so it only seemed right that he fixed it. I actually expected Frodo to say no."

"I was meaning to ask you about that?" Thorin commented. Bilbo glanced sideways at his friend. Thorin watched him with an amused expression. "Why Frodo Baggins? He has never left his home System before. He suffers from asthma. He has no family to cry for him if he dies. None of those qualities make him special."

Bilbo smiled wryly. "I guess I picked him because he kind of reminds me of myself when I was his age," he said. Thorin raised an eyebrow in silent question. Bilbo shifted in his seat, getting comfortable. "When I was fifty, I didn't have any family members who really cared for me. Everyone called me 'Mad Baggins' because of my paranoia. My whole life had been spent in the Shire System. Frodo and I are a lot more alike than you might think."

"In other words," Thorin said, leaning back and crossing his arms. His knee knocked against Bilbo's. "You went off on some wild journey and turned out just fine, so you figured Frodo would too."

"Maybe," Bilbo said hesitantly. "When you put it like that it makes a lot more sense to me . . ."

"But?" Thorin pushed.

Bilbo swallowed hard. "But I'm scared," he said softly. "And he gives me courage." Thorin was silent for a moment. Bilbo refused to look at his friend. He didn't want to see the disappointed look in Thorin's eyes. He'd been through a lot in his long life. There shouldn't have been any reason for him to be scared.

Thorin clapped a comforting hand on Bilbo's shoulder. "It is not wrong to be scared," he told Bilbo gently. "Almost half of the orders I give on _the Arkenstone_ are because I am scared. It is a natural emotion that you should not be ashamed of."

Bilbo gave Thorin a small smile of thanks. "Are you mad at me?"

Thorin frowned, tilting his head to the side. "For what?"

"Merry and Pippin getting caught by the Orcs," Bilbo said, clenching his hands at his side. "I know you didn't want Pippin to go with the Fellowship. I feel like it's my fault they got captured."

"That was not your fault," Thorin assured him. His hand squeezed Bilbo's shoulder. "If anything, it was mine. I should never have given Peregrin a choice in whether he got to go or not." Bilbo huffed and Thorin sighed. "I know what you are thinking, and you are probably right. I would never have been able to stop him. Peregrin has a mind of his own."

"As any good Took does," Bilbo said with a weak chuckle. "He wouldn't be one if he didn't rebel occasionally."

"Has Gandalf gotten back to you yet on his plan to rescue them?" Thorin asked urgently.

Leaning back on the seat, Bilbo swung his legs. "He did, actually," he said. Thorin leaned forward with interest. "Gandalf's pulled an Éored off their current assignment. He's tasked them with locating, clearing, and redirecting the Orc ship."

"Redirecting?" Thorin repeated dubiously. "He is not just going to pick them up?"

Bilbo sighed. "Guess not. He asked if he could use them in a small job. I said yes." Thorin's eyes widened in shock. Bilbo knocked his knee against the Dwarf's. "Relax, I asked what it was before I said yes."

"And what did Gandalf say?" Thorin asked weakly.

"Bilbo," Bofur called from the fore of the hovercraft. Bilbo leaned forward on his seat to look at the Dwarf. Bofur jerked his head toward the door. "Haldir says we'll be landin' in a few minutes."

"Right, thanks." Bilbo slid from his seat, taking a moment to straighten his coat. On the other side of the hovercraft, Elegost and Eaodan stood from their sides. Bilbo moved to head toward the exit. A hand grabbed his wrist, though, stopping him where he was. Bilbo looked back to see Thorin watching him, his brow furrowed in worried confusion.

"What did Gandalf want Meriadoc and Peregrin to help him with?" he asked stiffly.

"Gandalf wants to hit Saruman where it hurts," Bilbo told the Dwarf. "He's going to unleash Isengard."

.O.

Nori inhaled deeply as he stepped off the hovercraft. The smell of rain and wet earth permeated the air. Birdsong filled the areas, loud chirps that echoed off the trees. It was a gorgeous day to be outside, even as far out as they were on the secluded tarmac.

"Move." Bofur shoved Nori roughly from behind, sending Nori stumbling forward. "People want ta get off."

"Too bad for them," Nori sniped. "They have to wait their turn." Bofur scowled, looking ready to shove him again. Nori stuck his tongue out at him.

"Nori, act your age," Dori scolded him as he stepped off the hovercraft.

Nori pulled his tongue back in. "I've got no idea what you're talking about." He folded his hands behind his back and twisted this way and that, the epitome of innocence.

Dori knew better than that, though. He frowned at Nori and made a tutting sound. "Do you take me for an idiot."

Nori shrugged. "Sometimes," he said. "I can never be too sure." Bofur howled with laughter while Dori sputtered, his face turning red in anger.

"Is Nori picking fights again?" Bilbo asked, stepping down from the hovercraft. Thorin followed close behind, a conflicting expression on his face. Nori ignored it. Their captain always looked conflicted.

"Nori's bein' immature and Dori can't handle it," Bofur told Bilbo joyfully.

"I didn't say that!" Dori sputtered. Bofur just laughed again. Nori chuckled as Bilbo just shook his head.

Elegost and Eaodan followed Thorin out of the hovercraft. "Interesting crew you have here," Elegost commented. "It's a wonder you get anything done."

"Nothing gets done when I'm not around," Bilbo told the Ranger, shaking his head. "These Dwarves are lost without me."

"Oi, that's not true," Nori protested. "I won forty-two rounds of poker in the last three years alone." Bilbo raised an eyebrow, suggesting that his point had been proven. Nori looked away in feigned hurt. "I myself consider it a triumph."

"Ya consider wakin' up without a hangover a triumph," Bofur pointed out.

Nori grinned. "That's true."

"Where did I go wrong with you?" Dori groaned, running a hand down his face. "I must have done something wrong."

Nori shrugged. "First one's always a dud," he told his brother. Bofur roared with laughter. "Don't beat yourself up over it." Dori hid his face in his hands, mortified. Nori turned to Bilbo. "Any idea when Tauriel and Ori are getting in?"

"A couple minutes," Bilbo said. He squinted as he looked up into the treetops. "We're just waiting for Galadriel and the medical craft."

"Do ya really think they'll be able ta help Boromir?" Bofur asked dubiously. "I know they're Elves and all, but bringin' someone back from the dead's pretty hard." Nori cocked his head to the side. Bofur had a fair point. In his experience, when someone died they usually stayed dead.

Bilbo didn't look convinced, though. "Both Ori and Tauriel had a mobile cryo unit with them," he said. "If they managed to get it set up with Boromir in the first few hours then Galadriel should still be able to help him.

Nori raised an eyebrow at Bofur who just shrugged. "We'll see about that," he commented dryly.

Bilbo considered him for a moment, scratching his chin. Eventually he said, "Loser has to dinner dishes."

Nori took the offered hand with a wide grin. "Deal!"

"Nori!" Dori sounded mortified at the thought of his brother betting on the resurrection of a dead man. He rounded on Thorin. "Do something!"

Thorin hesitated, looking like this was the last place he wanted to be at the moment. "Do what?" he asked innocently. Dori growled, threw his hands into the air, and stormed away.

"You know," Eaodan commented. "I think we could make a comedy show about this. Plenty of people would watch it."

"You say that like you're any better," Bilbo told the Rohirrim, shaking his head. "I've seen you lot when someone doesn't want to do the dishes. You're just as bad." Eaodan didn't deny it. He just looked proud at the fact.

"There's the medical craft," Elegost said, pointing to the other side of the tarmac. Everyone turned to watch the small hovercraft come in.

Coming perpendicular to their own hovercraft was a small vehicle. It was nearly a quarter the size of a typical hovercraft. The sides were painted red with white vertical stripes. The medical craft drifted slowly across the tarmac, making its way toward the group gathered at the hovercraft. Once it reached them, the craft lowered itself slowly to the ground. A ramp lowered from the back, wide doors opening to allow access for the medics.

"Just in time too," Elegost added. "Looks like Tauriel and Ori just broke the atmosphere."

Nori's head jerked up so fast his neck cracked. Screaming through the air was _Albatross_ , his brother's _Eagle_. The _Bainrîn_ followed close behind, carefully clearing the treetops before it began its slow descent. _Albatross_ circled lazily around the clearing, waiting for Tauriel to land before it did.

The tip of the _Bainrîn_ hissed open, the panels shaped like flower petals. Tauriel appeared at the top. She gestured to _Albatross_ , calling to the medics in Sindarin. The three Elves, one man and two women, converged on the _Eagle_ just as Ori was climbing out. Nori's heart thundered at the sight of his baby brother. He didn't even care to watch as the medics extracted Boromir's body from the ship.

"Remember what we talked about?" Bilbo asked in a soft voice. Nori jerked in surprise. He hadn't heard Bilbo sneak up on him. The Hobbit stood at his shoulder, giving him a pointed look. "It's your job to help him understand normal life now. That's what a brother should do."

"I got it," Nori said. He hesitated a moment before adding, "Thanks, Bilbo." Bilbo smiled and patted him on the shoulder then headed toward the medics.

Nori turned back to watch his brother. Ori and Tauriel were speaking back and forth as they made their way slowly toward the gathered Dwarves. There appeared to be some sort of urgency in whatever they were saying. Ori looked ready to bolt. Nori's heart lurched. It hurt to see Ori so scared of something. His baby brother had seemed invincible ever since he'd come out of Moria looking like a warrior.

Dori appeared at Nori's side again. Nori raised an eyebrow at him. "Given up on me yet?" he asked.

"You're impossible," Dori huffed.

"My life wouldn't be complete if I wasn't," Nori told his brother airily, and Dori groaned again. They both fell silent as Tauriel and Ori approached them. Ori's anxiety had only grown in the short amount of time it'd taken him to cross the tarmac. He shifted on the spot, held there only by Tauriel's firm hand on his shoulder.

"Ori and I had a long talk about what he did," Tauriel told Dori and Nori. "He has come to an understanding and now he has something to say to you." Ori's eyes widened and he whipped his head around to look at Tauriel. The Elf nodded encouragingly at him.

Nori frowned. None of this was making any sense to him; not Tauriel having a heart to heart with someone or Ori being scared to talk about something. He snuck a glance at Dori to see if his older brother understood what was happening, but Dori didn't seem to know any more than him. Great.

"Go on, Ori," Tauriel said, patting Ori on the shoulder. "I will be right here."

Ori shifted nervously on the spot, wringing his hands together. "I know I scared you when I chased after Gollum without saying anything," he said softly. Tauriel's firm hand on his shoulder prevented him from taking off and fleeing this terrifying conversation. Nori stared with wide eyes as Ori continued. "You were scared that I might get myself hurt o-or killed."

"Not so sure that's something we need to worry about," Nori commented drily. Dori shushed him.

Ori licked his lips. His hand-wringing had only gotten worse. "The thing is," he said. "I knew I'd scare you if I left and . . . I didn't care. I didn't care that you were worried about me or that I'd have no idea what would happen to you while I was gone." Dori sucked in a sharp breath. Nori refrained from saying anything by biting his tongue. Ori swayed back and forth. "That's what scares me the most," he admitted. "Knowing I have family again, but also knowing that it doesn't matter to me. I don't want to be that way . . . I just don't know how to change."

Nori smiled weakly at the confession. Stepping forward, he wrapped a hand on Ori's shoulder. Ori stiffened slightly, leaning away from the touch, but he didn't shrug Nori off. Dori stepped forward to wrap an arm around Ori's shoulder, completing their family triangle.

"We understand, Ori," Dori told his brother gently. "And that's all right. We'll help you through this."

"That's right," Nori agreed, squeezing Ori's shoulder. "You're our brother. We're family. And where we come from, you don't abandon family."

* * *

A/N: _What did you think?_

 _Chapter titles with this story will range from 1-3 words sort of describing what's happening in the chapter. Hopefully no one hates me for what I've done with Boromir. Everything shall be explained in upcoming chapters! I'm off to write one more scene and think I think I'll call it quits for the night._


	4. Terrified and Tailed

Disclaimer: _I don't own The Lord of the Rings or the Hobbit!_

A/N: _Good evening . . . again!_

 _Hooray! I got the third scene written! It took me a while to come up with Sam and Frodo's scene because nothing really interesting is happening with them. :/ I feel kind of bad about that. Oh well, we'll just have to see how this goes._

 _Enjoy! Please review!_

* * *

 **Terrified and Tailed**

Pippin swam in and out of consciousness, semi-aware of the goings on around him. Fresh Uruk-hai relieved his guards of their duty. Uglúk barked orders, occasionally stopping to ask Pippin's guards sharp questions. The dark voices continued to echo through Pippin's head, growing louder with every hour that passed. It left him drained with a headache that was slowing blooming into a full blown migraine. Nothing Pippin did relieved the pain and he was left to take naps in order to ignore it.

The banging on the door came after what must have been several hours since he'd spoken to Merry. Pippin's guards tensed in their seats, their hands going to their weapons. Lying uncomfortably on his side, Pippin raised his head to see what was happening. The knock came again. Uglúk barked an order in Black Speech. A smaller Uruk-hai passed out of Pippin's vision. The cockpit's door opened loudly, releasing the chittering of the Orcs beyond it. Pippin craned his neck, trying to watch as a gangly Orc scuttled into the room. It was Grishnákh, the Orc who had started the fight on the station.

Grishnákh moved in a strange way. His feet moved back and forth, as though he was unaccustomed to walking on level ground. His back bent, his fingers always hovering inches from the awkward sword strapped to his hip. The Uruk-hai jeered as Grishnákh paused a few feet from Uglúk, bent over as though there was a great weight on his shoulders.

Pippin glanced across the space of the cockpit. Merry still lay with his back to the room, but he'd twisted slightly at the waist to see what was going on. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Pippin swore he saw a flicker of fear in Merry's. Neither of them had forgotten Grishnákh's grabbing hands or painful strikes yet. Just seeing the hideous Orc made Pippin's cheek ache at the memory.

Uglúk ignored the laughter of his men. He crossed his arms, looking unimpressed with Grishnákh's arrival. "What do you want, snaga?" he spat the last word with contempt, a sure sign of his feelings toward the smaller Orcs.

Grishnákh's sly eyes flitted around the inhabitants of the cockpit. They lingered on Pippin for a moment longer than was comfortable. Pippin shuddered, pressing back against the wall as waves of greed and hunger washed through him. There was something in Grishnákh's eyes that made him worry for his life.

"Talk, scum," Uglúk ordered, causing Grishnákh to jump in surprise. The Uruk-hai hooted at the jest. Uglúk sneered at the Orc. "You're wasting my time."

Grishnákh squirmed on the spot, uncomfortable at being outnumbered in the small space. "You's been in here a long time, Uglúk," he said in his grimy, croaking voice. "Locked yourself away and everything. We's starting to wonder if you's forgot our deal."

"I don't waste my time with filthy scum like you," Uglúk spat, and Grishnákh snarled at him, chomping his teeth. It didn't faze Uglúk in the slightest.

"You's keeping the prisoners for youself," Grishnákh accused. Several Uruk-hai roared at his words. Pippin's guards leapt to their feet, their swords ringing as they drew them. Grishnákh cowered away. His eyes flicked back to the door, calculating if he could make it out before getting attacked.

Uglúk stayed his men with a raised hand. "Enough," he shouted. The furious Uruk-hai fell back but didn't sheathe their weapons. Pippin swallowed hard as Uglúk turned back to Grishnákh. "Let the snaga speak." Grishnákh bared his teeth at the insult. Uglúk grinned. "You say I'm hoarding the prisoners? You snagas were the ones to try and eat them, and I can't let happen."

Grishnákh licked his lips nervously. "We's never said we's going to eat them," he all but whined.

"Seemed that way," Uglúk snarled, advancing on Grishnákh. The smaller Orc cowered back from him. "Saruman won't be too happy if that happens."

"I don't care what Sharku thinks," Grishnákh snarled, and the Uruk-hai shouted in anger once more. This time Uglúk didn't stop them. Grishnákh pressed on. "I didn't come all the way from the Mines to take some prisoners to that Wizard."

"And you got it," Uglúk told him. "The Tark is dead. I killed him myself."

Pippin looked back to Merry. Their eyes met and he saw the same understanding in Merry's eyes that he'd had. Neither of them could understand the Black Speech, but there was enough Westron to know who Uglúk was talking about. Merry's jaw set hard in defiant anger.

"The Tark's dead, but that doesn't account for all my brothers dead in the Mines," Grishnákh said. "Where's the Urkhus? I was promised his head."

"The Urkhus?" Uglúk threw his head back, howling with laughter. "You Moria Orcs talk about this Urkhus like it's some terrifying monster." His men echoed his amusement, jeering at Grishnákh.

Grishnákh trembled with rage. "The Urkhus haunts the tunnels," he whined. "It eats Goblins and Orcs, kills what it wants."

Uglúk stopped laughing. He grew serious. "Then be glad you're out of the tunnels," he told Grishnákh. "You'll live to see another day."

"The Urkhus is gone," Grishnákh said. "Hasn't been seen weeks. Sharku promised me its head as payment for doing what he wants."

"Then go hunt it," Uglúk snarled at him. "Your job with the Halflings is done."

"There's another thing," Grishnákh said as he wrapped his fingers around the handle of his knife. Uglúk bared his teeth in a warning snarl. "Some of us' starting to wonder if you's forgot your loyalty. The Halflings supposed to go to Lugbúrz."

"Forgot my loyalty?" Uglúk repeated. He advanced slowly on Grishnákh, drawing his sword as he did. Grishnákh stumbled back, squealing in fear. "Forgot my loyalty! I'm not like you Moria scum! My loyalty's with Saruman, not some memory of a foolish Man."

"Then you's giving it to him," Grishnákh accused as he scuttled backward. Uglúk snarled furiously at him. "The Halflings' supposed to be carrying something the Eye wants. You's giving it to Sharku instead."

"Out!" Uglúk roared, swinging his sword through the air. "Out! Before I kill you!" Grishnákh gave a terrified screech as the sword flew past his nose and he turned, fleeing from the cockpit. The Uruk-hai jeered after him, taunting him with cruel names and rude jabs. Uglúk slammed the door shut and locked it.

Pippin looked to Merry. _"They know,"_ he said. Merry nodded slowly. _"What do we do? They'll kill us when they find out we don't have it."_

" _Don't say anything,"_ Merry warned him softly. _"We just have to live long enough for Strider to find us."_ He settled back down facing the wall. _"It'll be all right, Pip. They're coming."_

Pippin sighed hard, laying his head back down. He wanted to talk more with Merry, tell about the dreams he kept having. In his most recent one, the figure had finally come into focus: a burly Man with blond hair that fell to his shoulders. The Man had spoken to him in the strange language again, repeating what he'd said: wé cume. Pippin had no idea what it meant. He was hoping Merry would, but his friend didn't want to speak much.

Uglúk stormed past Pippin again on his way to the consol. Pippin watched him go, tensing when the Uruk-hai paused to look at him. There was a sort of calculating look in the Uruk-hai's eyes, like he was trying to make some decision. Though the migraine pounded against his skull and exhaustion rolled over him in waves, Pippin pressed forward to probe Uglúk's thoughts. He couldn't understand the Black Speech, but there was the feeling that decision had been made.

Uglúk turned away from Pippin, barking orders to a couple of his men. The Uruk-hai snapped salutes then hurried to the door. Pippin didn't bother wondering where they were going. His head hit the floor of the cockpit and he let the exhaustion drag him back down into nightmare-filled sleep.

o.O.o

"That Gollum creature's getting awful close, Mr. Frodo," Sam commented as he examined the radar. "He doesn't seem to care about us knowing he's there anymore."

Frodo peered over Sam's shoulder to see the radar. A small bar circled the green screen, a small blip showing where Gollum's ship was. Frodo pursed his lips. Sam was right. Gollum was getting pretty close to them. Pretty soon he'd be able to board if he wanted to.

Sam looked over his shoulder. "What do you think we should do?" he asked nervously. "Gollum could kill us if he wanted to."

"We'll just have to make sure he doesn't get that chance," Frodo said softly. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the radar screen. For every minute that passed, Gollum's ship drew just a little closer.

 _My heart tells me Gollum still has a part to play in this tale, whether good or bad._ Gandalf's words, spoken so long in the Mines of Moria, rose back to Frodo's memories. Now they made more sense to him. Here he and Sam were, lost in the Emyn Muil airspace, and following them was possibly the only creature who could help them find a way out. If he could just find a way to reason with the creature, then maybe they could come to an understanding.

"Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked with a worried frown. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I was just thinking," Frodo said. Turning away from the screen, he strode toward the helm of the ship. Just outside the windshield was a derelict ship spinning slightly on a dying thruster.

"What about?" Sam asked, following Frodo across the ship. Frodo didn't answer. He already knew how Sam would react to his decision. Sam, though, had managed to guess what he was thinking. "You can't be serious, Mr. Frodo! He'll throttle us in our sleep."

Frodo sighed, rubbing his face. "He might be our only way out of this airspace," he said. Sam made a protesting sound in the back of his throat. Frodo rounded on him. "Sam, we're lost in the middle of an airspace with no idea where we're going and glitching systems. We're running out of options here."

"So that means we ask Gollum for help?" Sam demanded. "I don't think he'll be too keen to help us."

"He doesn't have to be," Frodo pointed out. Sam's eyes narrowed in a silent question. Frodo glanced out the window then sighed again. "Gollum may be our only way out of here, and he knows that. Maybe if we manage to catch him, we could force him to help us."

"You're going to blackmail him?" Sam asked.

Frodo shrugged helplessly. "Do you have any better ideas?"

Sam's jaw worked as he chewed his tongue. Eventually he shook his head. "I'll go see if there's any rope down in the engine room. We'll need something to tie him up with." Frodo smiled thankfully at his friend. At least Sam wasn't arguing too much about it. Had it been Merry or Pippin, they would have downright refused to accept help from Gollum until the ship had died in the water.

Sam left the cockpit to search for some rope down in the engine room. While he did that, Frodo headed back toward the console to watch the radar. Gollum would probably be close enough to board by the next evening. They'd just have to be ready for him.

o.O.o

Aragorn sat on the floor of the cockpit, peeling a clementine for his dinner. Legolas and Gimli sat on the other side of the ship. They spoke in low tones with one another, guttural Khuzdul words that Aragorn couldn't understand. Aragorn didn't worry too much about it. They had been doing that often enough lately that he'd become used to it. It didn't even bother him that Gimli occasionally glanced his way.

A day and a half had passed since their findings on the station. They were still no closer to finding Merry and Pippin, or even knowing if the Hobbits were alive. There was no way to know if there was any point in following the Orcs. They were running on the sole belief that there was still time left.

"Aragorn," Legolas said after a few minutes. Aragorn paused in peeling his clementine to look up at the Elf. Legolas watched him with a frown on his face. "What exactly is Orc Draught? I have never heard of it before."

Aragorn sighed, tossing a peel aside. The scent of fresh oranges permeated the stale recycled air. "I learned about Orc Draught when I was traveling with an Éored in the Rohan System," he said. Legolas nodded, paying rapt attention. Gimli leaned forward slightly. Aragorn didn't meet their gaze as he continued his peeling of the fruit. "It's a serum the Orcs use when they need to produce more of their kind."

Legolas glanced at Gimli who shrugged. "What does it do?" the Elf asked worriedly.

Aragorn hesitated. The memory of finding the Orc ship wasn't something he liked to think about. What he'd seen on that ship was still seared into his thoughts. Sometimes he dreamed about it, waking up in a cold sweat. Legolas and Gimli's confused expressions were too much, though. They needed to be ready for the possibility of what they might see if the Orcs used the Draught.

Aragorn set his clementine aside, wiping his hands off. "Orc Draught is a mutating serum," he explained, choosing his words carefully. "It causes proteins to denature when it's mixed with healthy DNA."

"So it's like the Hertigen we use in the Khazad System," Gimli commented. Legolas gave him a blank look and Aragorn raised an eyebrow. Gimli sighed, shaking his head. "Ay, ay, ay, you two need to get out more. We use Hertigen to erase a heritable disorder from a family's genetics. It's a radiation, though, and then genes are artificially swapped out."

"Think of it like Hertigen, then," Aragon said. "But instead of just changing one gene, it changes the whole sequence. It rips apart the DNA and puts it moves the pieces around before smashing it back together. It can be dangerous if it goes wrong."

Legolas considered these words for a moment then asked, "Why do you think Saruman would use Orc Draught on Meriadoc and Peregrin? It does not seem like something a Hobbit could survive."

"It's not," Aragorn said grimly. Legolas pursed his lips, not liking the somber tone in Aragorn's voice. "Saruman won't use the Orc Draught to turn Merry and Pippin into Orcs. There wouldn't be any point."

"Then what would he use it for?" Gimli asked with a deep frown. "You're not making any sense, laddie."

"If certain inhibitors are added to the Orc Draught before it's used then it can be used as a pseudo-dormancy inducer."

"It could send someone into a coma?" Legolas asked.

"Worse," Aragorn said. Reaching down, he grabbed his clementine and set back to work on peeling it. "The Orc Draught can shut someone's system down entirely while at the same time preserving them. All it would take is a certain chemical compound to reverse the effects. The person it was used on would be conscious for several hours before . . ." he trailed off, letting his words hang in the air. No one had to ask what he meant.

"Enough time to interrogate two Hobbits," Gimli said in a grave voice. "How do we know the Orcs haven't used the Draught on Merry and Pippin yet?"

"I was thinking about that." Aragorn popped a slice of clementine into his mouth. He spoke around the fruit, addressing Legolas. "You've shared dreams with Pippin before, right?"

Legolas nodded slowly. "A few," he admitted. "It was just to help Peregrin feel better when Boromir was mean to him."

"Then Pippin has a feel for your mind," Aragorn said after he'd swallowed his bite of fruit. Rising from his seat, he strode to the other side of the ship. "I was thinking that if you were able to catch Pippin's attention with one of those dreams then maybe we'd know if they were alive or not." He broke the clementine in half, offering part of it to Gimli. The Dwarf took it slowly, a wondering expression on his face.

Legolas nodded to himself. "It could work," he said. "We do not know how distance affects his ability."

"It's better than nothing," Gimli grumbled. He tore a slice of clementine away and popped into his mouth. "Think you can do it?"

"It would take a lot of resting on my part," Legolas said slowly. Gimli raised an eyebrow at him and the Elf sniffed. "I do not like lying around doing nothing."

"Then don't think about it as doing nothing," Gimli recommended.

Legolas shot him a dark look. "I could still keep my promise," he threatened, and Gimli's eyes grew wide. "Your father would kill you if he ever found out."

Gimli opened his mouth to argue, but Aragorn cut him off. They didn't have time to be fighting. Merry and Pippin could have already been put under by now.

"Legolas, do what you can and let me know if it works," Aragorn ordered. Legolas huffed, snatched the rest of the clementine from Aragon's hand, and then stormed out of the cockpit. Aragorn turned to Gimli. "Can you please not start anything right now? We all need to focus as hard as we can."

"I didn't start it," Gimli protested. Aragorn frowned at him and he sighed. "Fine, I'll be in the engine room if you need me." He stomped toward the stairs, leaving Aragorn alone in the cockpit.

Aragorn dusted his hands off, looking about himself. There wasn't anything in the cockpit he could use to amuse himself besides the Roots, and he wanted to avoid that at all costs. Striding toward the pilot's seat, he gazed out at the stars. They twinkled like millions of bright points on a dark sheet. Far away in the distance he could just make out a burning sun of the Khazad System.

" _Not Isildur,"_ Boromir's dying words echoed through Aragorn's head. Leaning forward on the back of the pilot's seat, Aragorn muttered under his breath, "Long live the King."

* * *

A/N: _What did you think?_

 _If anyone has better chapter title ideas, let me know. -.- I'm really wondering about these ones. All right, let's see . . ._

 _Heritable genes can be very bad for family. Personally, heart disease runs in ours along with psoriasis. To be fair, though, all our family members who got it smoked and drank a lot. So you can guess that in a future universe such as this, clearing your family of those sort of genes would be preferable. Legolas doesn't know about this because Elves don't really have that sort of problem._

 _When DNA is placed under extreme conditions, it can denature. This means the proteins unravel and lose whatever ability they had. It's very dangerous for you as a living being and is why you need to be careful not to overheat._

 _Tark is Black Speech for a man of Numenorean descent._

 _Well I am downright exhausted. I went to see Pride and Prejudice and Zombies last night with Castor and a friend and I didn't get a lick of sleep last night. My mom says that's because I'm so sensitive to those kinds of movies . . . which is true. I suffer from selachophobia (fear of sharks) because I watched JAWS when I was little. I can't go swimming in a pool or even look at a picture of a shark without getting scared. Oh well. Hopefully I'll sleep better tonight._

 _Good night!_


End file.
